


and you knew what it was (he is in love)

by anonhermionegranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, anyway, dhrfaves valentine's day gift exchange, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonhermionegranger/pseuds/anonhermionegranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or five times Draco tells Hermione he loves her, and one time he means it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and you knew what it was (he is in love)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> This was written for hawthornandvxne on tumblr as part of the dhrfaves valentine's day gift exchange. I hope you like it! 
> 
> This is very much an AU where Draco became friends with the trio in third year, so the events of HBP didn’t happen, meaning he didn’t join the Death Eaters and instead joined the Order.

**i.**

Twelve-year-old Draco Malfoy and his friends were sitting at a table in the library. Open books were strewn across the surface, and each Slytherin student was working on their latest Transfiguration essay.

Or trying to, at least.

Draco opened his mouth yet again to complain about Hermione Granger. 

“You know another thing that’s annoying about Granger?”

He saw Pansy sigh softly and mouth the words _three minutes_ to Blaise. He scowled at her; he had not just talked about her three minutes ago. Or had he? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t his fault that she was so obnoxious. He almost pitied Potter and Weasley for having to put up with her all the time.

“What, Malfoy?” Blaise asked, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading. Draco paused, mildly offended that his friends weren’t giving him their entire attention. He contemplated not speaking to them for the rest of the afternoon just to spite them, but first he had to say this last thing about Granger.

“Here we are slaving away, working on our essays, and we all know Granger will still get the highest mark in our year.”

“Is your father still upset that you aren’t scoring the highest?”

Draco scowled at the reminder. 

“I got another letter from him this morning, saying the usual: ‘Your mother is so disappointed.’ Ha! Mum doesn’t care. I wish he’d just outright say that he’s the one disappointed instead of hiding behind my mother.”

“Granger practically lives at the library,” Blaise pointed out, finally looking up at Draco. “I’d be surprised if she didn’t getting the highest marks.” 

“The professors all love her though. She could hand in an essay going on and on about some stupid Muggle thing, and they’d all be falling over themselves trying to give her an Outstanding. ‘I love you, Granger! You’re so perfect!’” He sneered, picking up his quill to start writing again.

When he noticed the startled, wide-eyed looks on his friends’ faces, he stilled his movements, his quill poised above the inkwell. 

“Since you love me so much, Malfoy, you wouldn’t mind me grabbing this textbook, right? I need it for the last portion of my Transfiguration essay.”

Draco unfroze and twisted in his seat to meet Granger’s eyes. She pointed to an unopened book by Draco’s elbow, smiling slightly as she heard Potter and Weasley, who stood on either side of her, laugh at him. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Granger.” Draco knew his ears were blazing in embarrassment, and he could only hope his cheeks weren’t as red. “Here. Now you can leave.”

He handed her the book, and she spun around with a quick _thanks_ , before joining in with her idiot friends’ laughter. Draco glared after them, but at the sound of his own friends’ muffled laughter, he quickly redirected his glare at them.

One look at his face, though, and they bursted out laughing.

“You’re blushing! You’re actually blushing!” Pansy cried out.

“Oh sod off, both of you!” He scowled deeply, his cheeks still red. That was it. He was definitely going to ignore his friends now.

**ii.**

Two years really did make a difference. After they had been paired up in a Potions project their third year, Draco and Hermione had tentatively formed a  
friendship. Most of Hogwarts had been shocked, many professors among them, but if there was one thing both he and Granger had in common was that they were both stubborn. He knew the school was waiting for this “temporary truce” to end, and he refused to be the reason why it all blew up in their faces. 

It seemed like Granger had a similar thought because she refused to let what their peers thought negatively affect their new friendship. They still argued, of course, but it never escalated to a screaming match, which Draco considered a success. 

A year and a half into their friendship, and Draco had to admit that Granger wasn’t as annoying as thought her to be their first two years at Hogwarts. The biggest thing that annoyed him now was the fact that she had refused to drop Potter and Weasley as friends, not that he ever really expected her to – she was too loyal. 

He tolerated them, just as he was sure she tolerated all of his friends too. If they kept this friendship up, though, he was sure Granger would try to get him to befriend them too. He shuddered at the thought but resigned himself to the fact that it was inevitable. Already, she had held group study sessions with both of their friends at the library. 

While Pansy and Blaise admitted they weren’t the worst thing, they weren’t too eager to do it again. They’ll learn soon enough that Granger was too persistent, and she’d eventually get what she wanted. 

Whispers erupted around him, spreading like wildfire throughout the crowd as they all turned to the doors. The Triwizard champions and their dates floated into the Entrance Hall where the rest of the students were waiting for the Great Hall doors to open. 

He felt a sharp pinch at his side, and he turned towards Pansy, scowling.

“What the bloo–”

“Look!” She interrupted him, pointing towards Krum and his date. “That’s – I must be seeing things, but that’s Granger, isn’t it?”

He followed her finger and spotted Granger in periwinkle robes, her hair tamed for once, and a smile nervously playing at the edges of her lips as she took in all the stares. Draco was completely dumbfounded, his eyes wide and his ears slowly turning red. He turned away, unsure as to why he was blushing.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Shock bled into his voice, and he knew if Granger was here to see how surprised he was at how well she cleaned up, she’d threaten to hex him. 

His eyes found her again without his permission. She was talking to Potter, Weasley and the Patil twins. He was about to suggest to Pansy that they join them before the ball started, but the doors opened and students rushed inside, shielding them from his view. 

It wasn’t until after the dinner and halfway into the Weird Sisters’ set that Draco got the chance to talk to Granger. Pansy was off dancing with Blaise, and Draco was grateful for the break. He dropped ungracefully in a chair, cursing his dress robes for being so constricting and warm. His hair had fallen out of its gelled hold, and Draco ran his hands repeatedly through it in an attempt to salvage it. 

“Whose hair is better now?” Granger appeared out of nowhere, plopping into the vacant seat beside him. She wordlessly handed him a cold bottle of butterbeer, and he nodded his thanks as he took a large sip.

“Still mine. It always wins against the bush you call hair.” He smirked.

Granger became immediately affronted. 

“Excuse me? Do you know how much Sleekeasy’s Hair Potion I used to get it like this?”

“Is that the only potion you put in there? Or did you sneak in some type of love potion too?”

“Malfoy, what are you even talking about?” She was eyeing him as if afraid he lost his mind.

“Well, it’d explain why every guy in this room is suddenly in love with you.” Her eyebrows furrowed, and before she could open her mouth to protest, he subtly pointed to the three guys staring at her with stupid, lovestruck looks on their faces. Immediately she flushed, and Draco smirked, taking a drink from his butterbeer.

“Even you?” He almost choked, spraying his drink out in surprise. As he coughed, Granger tilted her head back and laughed loudly.

“You did that on purpose! I almost died!”

She continued to laugh, pitching forward and grabbing his arm for support. Draco began to laugh along with her, staring at her shaking form.

“I’m sorry, I had to!” After a few minutes she calmed down, righting herself properly in her seat. She reached for own bottle of butterbeer, bringing it to her lips to take a drink. He waited a beat before smirking once again. 

“Yes, I love you, Granger.”

His declaration didn’t have the result he wanted. Instead of her spraying out her drink, she erupted into laughter.

“How did I know you’d try the same thing? You lack originality and wit, Malfoy.” She grinned at him, and he felt a weird sensation in his chest. Immediately he dismissed it as an effect from almost dying earlier. Because there was no way his heart actually skipped a beat at the sight of Granger grinning up at him in her pretty, periwinkle dress robes. Nope, there was no way.

**iii.**

Draco had never been as eager to return to Hogwarts as he was for fifth year, and it was mostly because he would no longer be under his father’s thumb. You-Know-Who’s return led to Lucius Malfoy taking up his former position as a Death Eater. Draco had tried to avoid his father all summer, uncomfortable with the hatred that poured out of his mouth every time he spoke. 

Disdain and thinly veiled threats dripped from his lips as he informed Draco that he had to stop all contact with the “Mudblood Granger” and her friends lest he be labeled a blood traitor. Draco had resisted clenching his jaw at the slur but he couldn’t prevent his hands from tightening into fists, and his father had sneered derisively before leaving in disgust.

The war brewing ahead was so obvious to Draco that he wanted to shake Fudge and everyone else for not believing Potter when he said You-Know-Who was back. Draco grew somber and distant the first week back as he was preparing to have his whole world be turned on its axis. 

He no longer believed in the Pureblood supremacy his parents had enforced in him all his life. He stopped believing in it the first moment he and Granger became friends. There was no way she would have ever befriended and trusted him if he still thought her to be inferior because of her blood. 

He wished it was as black and white as that, that he could fight in war against everything he ever believed in simply because he didn’t believe in it anymore. But Draco was fiercely loyal to his family, and he wasn’t sure if he could fight in a war when the next Death Eater he encountered could be his father or his friends’ family. 

Maybe he could take the coward’s way out and hide until the war was over. He and his mother could wait the war out, returning only once it was safe. Draco was tempted to take that option, but he was sure the Dark Lord would find them and kill them within a few weeks. The path ahead of Draco was obvious, but still he struggled with the knowledge of him turning his back on his family.

Knowing his father, he had recruited spies at Hogwarts to inform him of his every move. He needed to make his alliance known by disobeying a direct order from his father.

But at every turn, Granger was avoiding him. He tried to talk to her, but she always started conversations with other students or professors as he passed. He tried sending her letters, but they always returned to him unopened. Whenever he sat down at their usual table in the library, she would immediately jump up, collecting her books and shoving parchment into her bag as though she was done studying. With O.W.L.s this year? Not likely. 

A few weeks of this, and Draco was hurt. If she wanted to end their friendship, then the least she could do was tell him to his face. 

He managed to corner her one night after she left the library. He reached out and dragged her into an empty broom closet. Granger screamed in fright, her hand reaching into her robes for her wand. Immediately, he let go.

“It’s just me, Granger.”

“Merlin! I hate you, Malfoy. You scared me half to death!” Granger slid her wand back into her robes, not noticing the strange look on Draco’s face at her statement.

“Yeah,” he muttered sarcastically, “I love you, too, Granger.” He slid his hands into his pockets, avoiding her gaze. Clearly this was a mistake. He should have just left her alone. Who cared that they were no longer friends? Draco clenched his hands into fists.

“Any reason why we’re in a broom closet?”

“Any reason you’ve been avoiding me?” he countered, turning back to stare at her.

“Oh, _that_.” Granger bit her lip, and this time she was the one who avoided his gaze. At his single raised eyebrow, she continued, “Well, I thought it was agreed that we’d both stop talking to each other?”

“What? Where did you get that stupid idea from, Granger?”

“Well, I figured your father would stop you from being friends with me, with everything that happened in the summer and all. So I thought it would be best if we did it mutually.” At his look, she rushed to explain herself. “You know, so you wouldn’t feel guilty about it and –”

“Granger. My father has hated our friendship from the beginning. If I was going to end it to please him, I’d have done it from the very beginning.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“Friends?”

“Fine, but only because you’re practically begging me, Granger.”

She laughed and shoved him. Draco smiled down at her, relief flooding him. She didn’t hate him, and that meant more to him than she ever realized. 

**iv.**

They got the news of his father’s death a few months into their hunt for Horcruxes, when they were holed up at Grimmauld Place. Draco hadn’t been expecting to join them. Even after the fight at the Ministry together and him bouncing between the Grangers and the Weasleys in the summers to avoid the wrath of his father and Voldemort, he never thought they would include him in their plans. After all, everybody knew it was always going to boil down to the three of them.

He had an inkling about what they were going to do, but it wasn’t until they had volunteered him to degnome the Weasleys’ garden with them in the beginning of the summer that he realized the severity of their situation. 

He had grumpily tagged along, and as he was about to reach for a gnome, he noticed that the three of them were staring straight at him. Self-conscious under their serious stares, he had straightened. 

“What?” he had asked, eyeing each of them before settling on Potter.

There among the gnomes, out of range of any eavesdropping parent or sibling, they had let him in on their secret mission from Dumbledore. 

“So are you in?” Weasley had added when Draco didn’t say anything.

“Am I – _what_?” 

“You can’t go back to school either,” Granger had reasoned. “You’re just as wanted as Harry! One step into Hogwarts, and you’d be dead – or worse.”

And he had stared at each of them, his unlikely friends, as they prepared to fight a war. Suddenly he had felt older than his seventeen years of age. 

“I – yes, I’m in.”

Now Draco was staring at the newspaper Weasley had handed him a few hours ago. He had managed to sneak it from a Ministry worker’s briefcase during his stakeout with Potter earlier that day.

_MALFOY SR DEAD, WHEREABOUTS OF NARCISSA AND DRACO MALFOY UNKNOWN_

The headline taunted him, making it so that he couldn’t look away even as his eyes burned with unwanted tears. Potter and Weasley had left him alone to his thoughts, but Granger was stubborn and had entered his room after he had been alone for an hour. He would have thrown her out but she had brought a large bottle of Odgen’s Finest with her. 

He cradled the neck of the bottle before taking a large sip and passing it to Granger. The firewhiskey no longer burned as it slid down his throat. The bottle was almost empty, and they were well past sloshed.

She was sitting beside him on the floor next to his bed, respecting his wish for quiet, but now he turned to her. With a quick flick of his wand, the newspaper he held erupted into flames. Granger jumped in shock, angling her body away from the disintegrating ash.

“For Merlin’s sake! Warn a witch next time, Malfoy!” He noticed a distinct lack of a slur, and he wondered if she wasn’t as drunk as she led him to believe. Did that mean he drank the majority of the bottle? 

Granger wandlessly and wordlessly Vanished the hot ash before it could land in his lap, and he was once again blown away with how powerful a witch she was. 

“My father was a crap dad. I’m glad he’s gone.” 

“You don’t mean that. He was still your dad.” 

“Barely. He cared more about Voldemort than his own family. Imagine if we never became friends, Granger. He would’ve continued to feed me Pureblood supremacy bullshit, and I would have lapped it up. I would have eagerly followed in his footsteps and joined the Death Eaters.”

Granger moved from beside him so that she was now crouching in front of him.

“He loved you and your mother. In his own sick, twisted way, I think he did love you both.”

“Why are you defending him, Granger? He thought Mudbloods like you deserved to die. I hate him!” Tears clogged his throat, and he blinked furiously to try to see Granger’s face beyond the tears. 

“Draco,” Granger said softly, her arm traveling slowly up and down his arm in comfort, “it’s okay to mourn his death. He was your father, and you loved him, which is why it hurts so much that he died as a Death Eater.” 

Draco pitched himself forward, his head landing between her neck and shoulder in order to avoid her probing gaze. Her arms wrapped around him, offering him comfort over the death of a man she had every right to hate. The tears escaped, and he sobbed into her shirt. 

After a few moments, he stopped and pulled away gently. Tears clung to his eyelashes, and Granger Transfigured the pillow she had been previously leaning against into a clean handkerchief. He took it from her with a muttered _thanks_. 

Exhaustion hit him like a Bludger to the head. Granger stood up, holding out a hand for him to grasp. He let her pull him up, and with her help, he stumbled into bed. 

Draco eyed Granger blearily, watching as she flitted around the room. She emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water, placing it on the table beside him. The lights were extinguished, but before she could move completely away, he reached out and captured her fingers.

“Stay. Please.”

He was already dreading the morning, but with his best friend by his side, Draco figured he could survive anything else life decided to throw at him. 

Granger climbed into bed with him, sliding under the covers. He pulled her close, wincing as her cold toes touched his legs. She shifted them away but they both knew they’d wake up with them tucked beneath his legs.

“Thank you, Granger.” He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead as sleep threatened to overtake him. “Love you,” he mumbled sleepily into her hair. 

**v.**

If there was something that Draco did right in his life it was being too stubborn to end his friendship with Hermione Granger back when he was thirteen. She managed to open his eyes in ways he didn’t think possible, and it allowed him to become more than some random Death Eater. 

Their friendship was _not_ going to end because a Snatcher got lucky and managed to curse her before their wards were fully up. They hadn’t even landed for two minutes before a group of Snatchers yelped in delight and sent hexes their way, running to try to catch them. 

Before he even knew what was happening, Granger had pushed him down, throwing up a shield around them. The hex was too fast though, and the blue jet hit Granger in the chest. She collapsed in a heap at his feet. 

Panic engulfed him, but he added his own _Protego_ to join Potter and Weasley’s. Picking up Granger in his arms, he felt Weasley grab his shirt tightly and turn, Disapparating away.

They landed in the middle of an empty field. Draco barely managed to keep his footing, readjusting Granger in his arms. Potter and Weasley immediately jumped into action. Protection spells flew at such a quick pace out of their wands, he normally would have made a smart quip about it.

Instead his hand flew to Granger’s neck, panic and adrenaline rushing through his blood. His breath caught when he couldn’t find a pulse.

“Granger, if you die on me, I will murder you.” The single arm holding her was screaming from the strain, but Draco ignored the pain as he pressed his fingers to the other side of her neck. The faint fluttering of her heartbeat caused him to almost lose his grip from the relief that flooded him. 

“Do you know what she was hit with?” Potter asked, arms extending forward to take her from his grasp. Draco tightened his hold and twisted around him, walking towards the tent Weasley had just finished pitching. Potter and Weasley followed him inside.

He dropped her gently onto his bottom bunk. His fist clenched angrily, and he stepped away.

“No.”

“It couldn’t have been dangerous, though. They were Snatchers,” Ron pointed out. “They don’t get paid if their prisoners are injured.” Still he looked worried, his finger hovering under her nose to make sure she was breathing.

“Stupid, Granger. Always trying to be the hero,” he muttered, avoiding the sight of her too-still body.

“What’s your problem, Malfoy?” Weasley said fiercely. “Hermione took that hex meant for you! You could at least be grateful!”

“Exactly!” Draco yelled back at him. “If Granger dies, then that’s on me! She would’ve sacrificed her life for mine, and a dozen of my lives aren’t worth even a quarter of hers!” 

A shocked silence settled over the boys. The tent became too suffocating for his liking, and Draco headed towards the entrance.

“I’ll take first watch. Run diagnostics on Granger and make sure she stays alive.”

Granger stayed unconscious for two very long days. The boys switched periodically between keeping watch, sleeping, and looking over Granger. They didn’t want to move until she woke up, but they had agreed that if she didn’t improve after the third day, they’d move on to a different spot so Snatchers didn’t catch on to where they were. 

It was Draco’s turn to watch Granger. Weasley was on lookout duty, and Potter was supposed to be resting after his shift. Instead Potter was sitting next to him, staring at her still form. Draco was idly thumbing one of the textbooks Granger had brought with her. They had looked extensively through every one, but none gave any clues as to what the spell could have been. 

“You have no idea, do you?” Potter asked softly, his gaze never leaving Granger’s flickering eyelids.

“No idea about what?”

“You love her.”

“Of course I bloody love her. She’s my best friend,” Draco exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowing at Potter. “You and Weasley love her too. That’s why we’re all exhausting ourselves worrying about her.”

Potter looked over at him in surprise. He didn’t think Draco would say those words that easily. Draco grinned for the first time in hours. 

“What, Potter? Jealous?” He smirked at him. “Don’t worry, I also consider you and Weasley my best friends. And,” he paused for dramatic effect, “I love you, too.”

“Please don’t ever say that again!” Potter said, laughing.

“Are you saying you don’t feel the same, Potter? I’m offended.”

“Can we drop this?”

“Not until you say it back.” 

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Potter muttered under his breath before mumbling, “I love you, too, Malfoy.”

Draco bursted out laughing at the pained expression on his face. Potter’s ears were red, and Draco laughed harder. 

“If you both are done confessing your undying love for one another, can I please get some water?” 

Abruptly, his laughter stopped. He leaped out of his chair, grabbing hold of Granger’s hand. She smiled at him, and his entire breath caught. Her hazel eyes found his silver ones, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Hey.” Her voice was rough from disuse. Draco felt his fears of her never waking up slip away at the noise. 

“Hey. How do you feel, Hermione?” he whispered, his eyes tracing his face for any signs of distress. He couldn’t stop himself from dropping a kiss on her forehead.

“Even better now,” she replied, grinning at him. If his heart started beating faster, he ignored it. “Could still use some water though.”

Draco laughed softly, squeezing her hand once more before heading toward the kitchen area. He met Potter’s pointed stare and rolled his eyes. They kissed her forehead all the time. Weasley, who had been called in by Potter when Granger first woke up, kissed her forehead in the same manner as Draco. He turned back to Potter and raised his eyebrows as if to say _see? friends_ , but Potter just shook his head and joined Granger.

Surrounded by Granger’s soft laughter, Draco felt hope flutter deep in his chest. For the rest of the night, he held tightly onto Granger’s hand, aware of Potter and Weasley’s shared knowing looks, but he decided he didn’t mind them when Granger was pressed beside him. 

**+1**

Draco Malfoy was nervous. It was Valentine’s Day and he was planning on asking his girlfriend of almost three years to marry him. Cliché? Very, but Draco didn’t care. Kissing her during the middle of the final battle had easily been the best decision he had ever made. After befriending her in third year, of course.

Draco had known there was a strong possibility they wouldn’t make it safely to the end of the war. With hexes and curses flying inches too close for comfort, Draco had realized how easily everything he cared about could be taken from him. When there was a momentary break in all the fighting, Draco had pulled Hermione into an abandoned classroom. Before she could protest, he slanted his lips over hers, and she responded just as fiercely. 

They had pulled away at the same time, their harsh breaths mingling with one another. Running around avoiding various curses, and he was reduced to a breathless mess because of a _kiss_. He would’ve shaken his head at how pathetic he was if it had been with anybody other than Hermione Granger. She could reduce him into a breathless mess with a single look if she wanted.

“Don’t think this means you can go and die a heroic death now,” Hermione had whispered against his lips. He had pulled her in for another kiss before breaking apart, mumbling, “The same goes to you, Granger.”

When the war had finally ended, grief had settled deep in everybody’s bones. They all suffered from varying degrees of PTSD, and their first Valentine’s Day as a couple was tinged with grief and sadness as the first anniversary of the end of the war loomed ahead. 

Their second Valentine’s Day was, if they were being generous, a disaster. Draco had tried to cook Hermione a homemade meal, refusing any help. He had sent her to a spa with Ginny Weasley, knowing he needed hours to prepare the meal.

His experience of cooking was limited to what they did while searching for Horcruxes. It was seemed simple enough then, but without the help of three people who were used to cooking, it turned into a nightmare. 

He had managed to burn their entire kitchen down. Hermione had returned to find the Muggle firefighters confused as to how the flames had disappeared after a neighbor in the apartment next door described how she saw thick smoke rope out of the kitchen window. The charred kitchen wasn’t easy to explain when she had tried to say it was all a misunderstanding. The Ministry had to get involved, and Draco and Hermione were no longer allowed to live in Muggle London. Needless to say, it wasn’t the best Valentine’s Day they could’ve had. 

Hermione was supposed to be home any minute now. She had promised she’d leave at five o’clock on the dot so they could make their reservations. Draco had offered to cook again, and Hermione had vehemently refused, to Draco’s great amusement. 

The nerves were going to be the death of him, though. Would he manage to get through the proposal without mangling his speech too much? What if she rejected him? Sure, they were still really young, but Draco could not stand another day passing without the whole world knowing they were fully committed to one another. 

He pulled out the ring box to check that the ring was still in its proper place. There nestled in velvet was one of his mother’s family rings. She had offered him the engagement ring Lucius Malfoy gave her, but Draco refused, saying he’d never let anything he touched taint Hermione’s finger.

She understood and had suggested a Black family heirloom. Draco spent weeks looking at them whenever he visited his mother for their weekly tea before finally choosing one that he could picture on Hermione’s finger. 

The sudden _whoosh_ of the Floo startled Draco. The ring box flew out of his grip in an uncharacteristically clumsy moment. He watched in horror as Hermione straightened up and caught the ring in surprise. 

Her mouth dropped when she saw what was inside, and her eyes found Draco’s. He groaned loudly, covering his face in embarrassment. Of all the things that had to happen. Why couldn’t any of his Valentine’s Day surprises go according to plan?

“Draco?”

“Yes?” 

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to uncover your face anytime soon?”

“No.”

“Then how will you see me say yes?”

His hands dropped immediately. He found Hermione taking the delicate ring out of the box and slipping it onto her finger. His chest tightened at the sight of it on her hand. He walked slowly towards her until he was a foot away. He grabbed her left hand in his, eyes never leaving hers.

“Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, a large grin on her face. Draco’s other hand cupped her cheek, angling her so he could kiss her fully. 

“I love you.” Before she could reply, he kissed her more fully, turning her so he could press her against the wall. 

“What about dinner?” she asked.

“Skipping it. Let’s have dessert instead.” He kissed her once more, and any protests she had died.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This honestly did not turn out how I expected, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!


End file.
